“Fine,” I growled, “but we must escape this rain immediately. Let me guide you with my staff.” I looked at Anshi, and shereluctantly placed the staff in my hand. I shook the bells to specify my intentions. “Try not to focus, so the spell will work.”
Ren blinked dazedly. “I’m sure that won’t be too difficult.”
I nodded for us to continue, ringing the bells and compelling Ren to follow, his exhaustion tugging vaguely on my energy.
When we finally reached the monastery gate, I pushed open the wooden doors and ushered my guests inside. Half blinded by rain, I didn’t stop to appreciate the sight of my home. Instead, I focused on the lit brazier glowing from the temple entrance and walked swiftly toward the stoop, rainwater splashing at my heels.
As we ducked under the veranda’s overhang, I detected the thump of footsteps hastening close from our left. I turned, expecting to see Lilan rushing out to greet us.
Instead, the newcomer was a man, one whose face I’d last glimpsed at Jing Mansion. I froze, my skin crawling with dread.
Ren followed my eyes and stared. “Dage?”
CHAPTER 22
My desires to see Baba and protect Ren warred with each other as I watched the elder prince sweep his younger brother into a hug.
“Dage,” Ren gasped, weakly patting Liqin’s back, “what are you doing here? Did you come to find me?”
Anshi stopped beside me, hand hovering over the hilt of her sword. Even without looking, I could sense how stiffly she stood. It was clear we shared a similar distrust toward the man before us.
But Liqin’s body language and tone radiated only relief as he gripped Ren’s shoulders and leaned back to study him. “Of course I came to find you. I had to after I learned you were alive. I have ears all over, you know, and I couldn’t bear to wait in the capital for your return. So I came to Baimu and happened upon this monastery while I waited.”
I clenched my staff. Master Zhang had mentioned we were being watched, and the Jings’ agreement with the crown had proven the possibility of spies. Liqin must’ve guessed I’d stopby my family home on our way through Baimu. He’d cleverly twisted dishonesty into dependability.
“Are you well, xiaodi?” Liqin continued, eyeing the Fu talisman covering half of Ren’s face. “You seem fatigued. And drenched.”
“I’m fine,” said Ren, his cheery tone belying the truth. More solemnly, he added, “I’m sorry my disappearance has caused so much trouble for you and Father.”
Liqin smiled wanly. “It’s all right. It’s just the timing wasn’t ideal, what with the missing seal.”
“Has Father decided to give it to you?”
I bit my lip, wondering how I could yank Ren away from Liqin without drawing the elder prince’s wrath.
“He’s hinted as much. But our government is ruled by nothing if not law and tradition.” Liqin held Ren’s stare. “Which is why I must ask—do you have any idea where the seal might be, or who might’ve taken it? I don’t mean to accuse you of anything, but it vanished around the same time you left.”
“Actually, I—”
I grabbed Anshi by the arm and wrenched us both down to the ground. Bowing with forced respect, I said, “Your Highness, forgive my insolence in cutting short this conversation. However, Prince Renshu only recently recovered from a fever. If you’ll permit us to go inside and dry ourselves—”
“Ah, of course,” said Liqin, gesturing for us to rise. “In my excitement, I wasn’t paying attention. You’re the priestess, yes, who brought my brother home?”
I stood and inclined my head. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“And who’s this?” he asked, nodding at Anshi.
I squeezed Anshi’s arm in warning. “A friend. She offered protection during our journey.”
He didn’t catch my lie, and thankfully, no one else exposed me. Smiling, he said, “Then you both have my gratitude, mistress. Please, help my younger brother. While I wait, I’ll be in the prayer hall, expressing my thanks to the gods.”
I could’ve scoffed at his display of humility. Instead, I dipped my head, teeth clenched. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
With Anshi following at my heels, I nudged Ren past the eldest prince and down the porch wrapping around the temple. Liqin’s hand shot out and grabbed my arm, startling me. I consciously ignored the instinct to yank myself free.
“Thank you again for taking care of my brother,” he said, holding my stare. His eyes were warm but artificial, like overly sweetened tea. “You’ve done the royal family a great service.”
Despite his words and charming smile, I felt far from appreciated—or safe—standing so close to him with my arm still trapped in his grip.
